


The Lion's Crown and the Crown of Suns

by Rebecca Hb (beckyh2112)



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, F/M, M/M, everyone is human AU, tags to be added as people and relationships appear
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-31
Updated: 2017-11-20
Packaged: 2018-07-28 12:05:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7639546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beckyh2112/pseuds/Rebecca%20Hb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In anticipation of a war with Omnica, the kingdoms of Löwenkrone and Argia seal an alliance with two treaty marriages. Now, Golden Jack of Löwenkrone and Princess Satya of Argia must adapt to life and their partner in a strange land far from home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to Dark Puck, SlackerEmeritus, and DefinitelyNotScott. This work would not exist without them.
> 
> I am probably butchering any parts that aren't in English, and I apologize for that and would appreciate corrections.

Gabriel Reyes, crown prince of Argia, waited for the barbarians to arrive in the outer courtyard of Alcázar de Zaindari. Jesse stood just behind him and to his right, where he'd stood at every official function since he'd returned from his travels in the lands north and east of Argia. He still wasn't knighted; the idiot kept running off whenever Gabriel talked about it. But Jesse was his brother-in-arms, and his mothers didn't trust anyone else with his life.

The rest of his entourage was arrayed around him, other young knights and courtiers of Argia. A handful of Satya's people stood at the edges, having found a new reason to stay at court since the princess had left.

"Your mamas really let you wear your owls today?"

Gabriel didn't even turn his head. "No one's told me how to dress since I was sixteen, Jesse."

"Just don't think wearing a bird of ill-omen when you're meeting your husband-to-be is the _best_ thing you've ever done, Gabriel."

His mothers had agreed with Jesse, not that he'd mention that to any of them.

The page-girls he'd sent to stand lookout came darting back down the stairs from the walls. "They're coming!"

They skidded to a stop in front of Gabriel, eyes bright with excitement. One started, "There's wagons and horses-"

"Fifteen wagons, we couldn't count the horses-"

"-we think the prince is the one at the front!"

"There's a woman riding behind him with the Löwenkrone banner!"

"And there's a man walking beside him! In armor!"

He smiled, raised a hand to quiet them. "Good scouting. Return to your classes. I already told your trainers where you've been."

"Thank you, Prince Gabriel!" The page-girls glanced at each other, then took off at a dead run, racing towards the inner gate. He smiled as he watched them run, remembering similar races with Jesse and Satya when they were younger.

Gabriel glanced sidelong at his friend, saw Jesse reach for his beltpouch and the cigarillos he kept there, and casually punched him in the shoulder. "Not now."

Jesse grumbled in a language he'd picked up traveling and folded his arms.

The creak of wagon-wheels and the jingle of horse harnesses was audible now. Gabriel turned his full attention back to the gates in time to see the barbarians ride in. Well. Of the three who mattered, only two rode. The other was a giant of a man, his companions' horses only coming up to mid-chest. He wore full plate, bright brass lions worked across the chest and shoulders, gleaming claws on gauntlets and boots. His helmet was nowhere to be seen - likely in the baggage with the weapons. His long silver hair shone bright in the sun, and his beard was braided. An old scar slashed over his left eye, and he looked around with unabashed curiosity.

The man who rode with him, the barbarian prince (your husband-to-be, Gabriel reminded himself) was nowhere near as tall, thankfully. He looked to be Jesse's height, which meant he was Gabriel's. He was as pale as the big man, which… was exotic. Gabriel wasn't sure he would call it attractive, but it was certainly exotic.

He looked grim and stern amid the bustle of his people as they led in the horses and wagons. His hair was the color of sunlight, and his features were arrestingly handsome. Two thin braids framed his face, while the rest of his hair was pulled back in a loose tail. He wore a lamellar chestpiece over a lapis blue tunic edged in searing red, bands of white and yellow running up the sleeves. His trousers were a darker blue with white wrappings barely visible above his boots.

Rich colors. His husband-to-be was not a _penniless_ barbarian prince, at least.

It felt like he'd been telling himself 'at least' for the past half a year, ever since they settled the terms of the treaty with Löwenkrone. At least it was just a treaty marriage and no one expected him to keep it up past the war with Omnica. At least the man was the eldest son, so they knew Löwenkrone was taking this seriously. At least he had served in the Ilevellan imperial court, so he wouldn't be completely barbaric.

(At least Vizcondesa Amélie was with Satya, so his adopted sister would have someone to help her adapt to her new land and her new husband.)

The prince's bannerwoman rode behind him, grip firm and head high as she displayed the maneless lion of Löwenkrone. She was just as pale-skinned as the prince. They were _all_ pale-skinned, Gabriel noticed, as he scanned over the others in the entourage. He didn't know why he was surprised - Löwenkrone had nothing to attract civilized people to settle there. He wasn't even sure they had cities.

Her brown hair was pulled back in the same manner as the prince, though the two locks framing her face were strung with beads rather than braided. She wore no armor. Instead she wore a bright white dress with divided skirts, the sleeves and collar edged in green brocade. Over it was a sleeveless dress, the same blue as the prince wore, straps over her shoulders to hold it up and pinned with gold brooches. There was a gold buckle on her fine leather belt, a set of pouches, and a ring of keys.

"Bones and blood," Jesse said softly behind him. "He's as big as the horse."

Gabriel turned his head to the right just enough to look at his bodyguard out of the corner of his eye. "Yes."

"Wearing full plate, too. You know how much metal that is?"

"Yes."

"Well," Jesse said, amusement coloring his voice, "at least you're not slumming it."

"Shut up."

The barbarian prince had noticed him now.

***

Jack scanned the courtyard of the castle without moving his head. Now that he was inside, he could see another set of walls and, behind them, the main keep. The inner walls were probably as thick as the outer ones had been, though the towers at the corners were less massive. They both had turrets along the length of the wall, but the inner wall had fewer.

The parapets projected out over the main part of the wall, for some reason. It couldn't just be to look beautiful - the patterns of colored stone used to make the walls and the shape of the turrets showed the Argians had other ways to make their fortifications beautiful and functional.

Extremely functional. He wouldn't have liked to try to take this castle. Especially not in soldiering season - it was just too damn hot here in Argia. Jack was very glad they'd stopped at the edge of the capital the night before instead of pressing on. The chance to clean off all the grit and sweat from travel had eased the tension that had settled between his shoulder-blades when his father's messenger caught up to him at the imperial seat of Ilevell.

"We need allies against Omnica," they'd said. "You must go to Argia and wed their prince. They are sending their daughter to wed your brother Winston."

He had tried to argue, but everyone had always known he and Lena were the marriage-pieces his parents could play. And the Argians were a civilized, cultured people - they couldn't send _Lena_. But Jack, who'd spent half his adult life in Ilevell, guarding the empress herself as one of her Vaatiyan Guard? (Golden Jack, the only one of their children who'd inherited Grandmother's yellow hair?)

Of course he'd get sent across half the continent to a kingdom he'd never visited to marry a man he'd never met.

That man stood before the great doors of the castle's inner gates. His attention was on the man who stood where Reinhardt usually stood for Jack, giving him a moment to just look at his husband-to-be.

Prince Gabriel was dark-skinned and dark-eyed, like all the handsome men of Ilevell, and he kept his facial hair neatly trimmed. His hair looked naturally curly, but not in the same way the empress's was. But his clothes… Jack swallowed. That was not the imperial fashion. Black hose that clung to finely-muscled legs, black shoes with a chunky heel - why a heel? A close-cut doublet of black brocade accented in silver, owls picked out in crimson along the sleeves.

A good black dye cost a fortune. A bad black dye needed to be replaced every few years, so it still cost a fortune.

A silver chain of office hung around Prince Gabriel's neck, the sun-disc of Argia clearly displayed on the central pendant. Odd. Jack had thought Argians preferred gold.

The prince's bodyguard was lighter-skinned than the prince and lighter-haired than Lena, but anyone would recognize him as a native of Argia. His shaggy hair wasn't cut as short as the prince and the rest of his entourage kept theirs. Nor was his beard as neatly-trimmed. He wore similar clothes to Prince Gabriel, but in more colors. His doublet was a rich red ochre, cut even closer to his body than the prince's. Yellow suns ran down his sleeves, and his hose were a deep brown.

The rest of the prince's entourage dressed similarly, though often in colors much brighter than Prince Gabriel or his bodyguard.

"Reinhardt," Jack said quietly, without taking his eyes off the prince, "where are the rest of their clothes?"

His foster-father turned away from studying the battlements to glance at Prince Gabriel and his entourage. "Ach. Westerners."

The prince had noticed him. Jack mustered up a smile; Torbjörn's advice to be grim had served him well in the Vaatiyan Guard, but he was supposed to marry this man. It'd be better if they could at least like each other.

The return smile was not as wide or bright as one of his countrymen would have given him, but it wasn't the tight-lipped smiled he'd gotten in Ilevell, either.

***

Gabriel didn't even get a chance to talk to his husband-to-be. The diplomats formally introduced them, they clasped hands, and Gabriel welcomed Jack to his home and life in his native language. Jack presumably responded in kind, but he understood the man's first tongue as little as it looked like Jack had understood his.

Then he bade the stewards to settle the Löwenkroner into their quarters, and Jack was whisked away before he had a chance to find out what languages the man did speak.

Now, though, they were at the welcoming feast, up on the central dais in the great hall. Gabriel's mothers were in the center, of course, with their court around them, while he and his were off to the right. Jesse sat in his usual place at Gabriel's immediate right, and for the first time in his life, someone sat immediately to his left. The spouse's place.

Jack had taken off his lamellar and added twisted gold armbands to his clothes. The armbands were in a style he hadn't seen before: designed to not fully close, with stylized Löwenkrone lion's heads capping either side of the opening. His bannerwoman wore a neckpiece of a similar design and an earpiece shaped as stylized smoke rising from a forge. Her hair had been put into an intricate braid strung with colored beads. His bodyguard had shed his full plate for clothes similar to Jack's, though with a preference for greens and browns. He'd also changed the braids in his beard. Interesting. Jack hadn't changed the small braids in his hair, except to add small blue beads at the end.

Gabriel was having to resist the urge to bat at them.

Jack had seemed perfectly comfortable when the bowls of water for hand-washing went around, but now he was eyeing the utensils on either side of the porcelain trencher.

***

"What are these?"

Reinhardt shrugged. "I have traveled all over the east, Jack, not the west. I do not know the customs here."

Jack glanced sidelong at Prince Gabriel, who was watching him with interest. Great. "I knew we weren't going to eat in the Ilevellan style, but I thought everyone used trencher and knife west of Ilevell."

"Everyone here has a trencher and knife," Reinhardt pointed out helpfully. Brigitte looked like she was trying not laugh.

"What are these other pieces then? What are they for? I managed to avoid looking like a complete barbarian in Ilevell, Reinhardt, I'd like to avoid it here."

His foster-father patted him on the shoulder. "Watch your prince. He knows the customs."

***

Gabriel watched as Jack spoke briefly with his vassals. Hm.

Then Jack turned back to him, and the servants brought out plates of cheese and olive pastries. Gabriel took two from the plate set down on their table, offered one to Jack. "You'll like these."

Jack smiled and waited until Gabriel took a bite himself. He made a pleased sound when he followed suit, so Gabriel grabbed another for both of them.

"I know you don't speak Argian," Gabriel said after they finished the pastries. He licked crumbs from his fingers before continuing, "but kya apa hindi bolte hai?"

Jack was looking a little wide-eyed and unfortunately just as blank as this morning.

"Parlez-vous francais?" Gabriel tried.

Jack shook his head. "Türkçe konusuyor musunuz?"

"Loquerisne Latine?"

"Talar du svenska?"

Gabriel shook his head this time. At least Jack had picked up on what he was trying to do.

"Vy govorite po-russki?"

"Miláte Elliniká?" Gabriel knew it was a long-shot. His own Nision wasn't very good, but Jesse could converse in it.

Jack brightened, then his shoulders slumped. "Lígo."

A little. Well. That was better than nothing. That _had_ to be better than nothing.

***

Prince Gabriel didn't look any more pleased with 'a little' than Jack felt.

"Reinhardt speaks it better," he added, the only other useful _and_ polite phrase in Nision he could use right now. Maybe the prince spoke Bahramin? "Hal tatakallamal-'arabiyah?"

"Atakallam qalilan," Prince Gabriel replied, frowning.

A little. The niceties, probably. Jack didn't think a man who lived as a prince among his own people, even among warriors as well-known as the Argians, would have picked up the insults.

Prince Gabriel accepted a silver cup from a servant without looking and handed it to Jack. He wondered if the prince was going to feed him the entire meal. The servant, meanwhile, looked at the non-silver cup in her other hand, then hurried away.

"Well," Jack said in Bahramin, "at least we have a few words in common."

The look Prince Gabriel gave him suggested he'd either said that too fast or too colloquially. Or he'd simply exceeded the prince's vocabulary.

Spirits, they were going to be married at the end of the season, and they couldn't even talk to each other.

The prince's bodyguard - Jesse, his name was Jesse -  leaned forward and said something in faster and more complex Nision than Jack spoke.

Jack looked at him, then looked at Reinhardt.

"He says he speaks Nision well. Mm. He sounds different than what I learned, but I can understand him." Reinhardt took a large drink from his cup. "Fine glow-wine. You should try it!"

"I'll wait until Gabriel has his." Jack grinned. "Are you going to tell Jesse you understood him?"

"Ach!" Reinhardt spoke Nision more slowly than Jesse, but the man was obviously following what he said.

The servant returned with a silver cup for Prince Gabriel. Jack lifted his own cup, looking into the prince's eyes. "May this work out for the best."

Behind him, there came the crash of shattering porcelain.

 

***

Gabriel flinched, attention jerking away from Jack's very, very blue eyes. He felt a little light-headed, just from the man looking at him and saying… something. Quietly. Directly to him.

Reinhardt bellowed something, his cup in pieces where he'd smashed it on the floor. Had the mulled wine offended him? It was an excellent vintage and mix, one of Gabriel's favorites.

Hnh. They drank beer in Löwenkrone. If that was the problem, it was going to be a long-term one. Argia didn't make good beers, at least according to Jesse.

Brigitte looked fondly annoyed, as if this was something she was used to. Jack didn't even seem to be paying attention to his bodyguard; he looked more concerned with Gabriel than- His expression shifted as he noticed how silent the hall had become, and he turned to say something to Reinhardt.

"Jesse," Gabriel said calmly. "What the shit was that about?"

"Hang me if I know. Reinhardt!" Jesse spoke rapidly in Nision, then stopped to listen, his expression turning more incredulous. "He says he liked it. He wants another."

Gabriel looked from Jesse to his husband-to-be and his bodyguard. Jack had his elbow on the table, and his face in his hand. Reinhardt looked concerned and was talking to him in their native language. Brigitte had a hand covering her mouth; Gabriel recognized _that_ look from whenever Jesse was trying not to laugh at something.

"So he smashed the cup," Gabriel said, looking back at Jesse. "He wanted another, so he smashed the cup."

"Yeah…"

"Why."

"Don't start talkin' to me like that, Gabriel." Jesse asked something in Nision, listened. "It's the custom where they come from."

"You've got to be kidding me."

"I'm not. Maybe he is."

Gabriel gave Jesse a look, then motioned to one of the servants. "Get him another. Jesse, tell the man that's not the custom here."

"Pretty sure he figured that out."

A hand as big as his head tapped him on the shoulder, and he shifted his attention to see Reinhardt looking at him sheepishly. The big man rumbled something in his own language; Gabriel assumed it was an apology.

"Apology accepted," he said graciously, rather than the usual vicious politeness he used on his own entourage.

Reinhardt clapped him on the shoulder, rocking him in his seat. Gabriel just blinked. Even _Jesse_ wasn't that familiar with him in public, and they'd grown up as good as brothers.

***

"I like how you apologized for breaking the cup, and nothing else." Jack knew he sounded more amused than chastising, but he _was_ more amused than chastising.

"There is nothing else to apologize for," Reinhardt said, settling back in his seat. "It is our custom. We are rich men, we may be so wasteful if we choose. And I did not think their hospitality would begrudge one cup."

His tone was of good cheer, but he had been in Ilevell with Jack for ten years. They both knew how to lie with tone of voice. No one there cared enough about barbarians to learn their tongue to know what they really said.

"I don't think it was a matter of hospitality," Jack said carefully. "You startled the owl-prince."

Reinhardt grinned. "Owl-prince, hm? I like it!"

"He's wearing owls on his sleeves and his jewelry, what do you want from me? I can't use his actual name, he's sure to pick that up."

Servants brought forward a massive gilded porcelain bowl of soup to the queens' table. Were they both queens? Jack was sure they'd been introduced with different titles. A smaller silver-edged was brought to Prince Gabriel, and porcelain bowls were set before each of them.

"Silver is your metal, isn't it?" Jack asked idly, tapping his finger against the silver goblet in front of him. "All your jewelry is silver, from your chain of office to the owl ring. But the queens wear gold."

Prince Gabriel gave him that polite look that said he had no idea what Jack was saying but he was listening anyway. Then he picked up Jack's bowl and filled it with the red soup, before filling his own. Instead of filling Jesse's, though, he put the ladle back in the bowl, and Jesse had to pick it up and serve himself.

In Löwenkrone, Jack would have served all of the people at his table. As their prince, he had the right to distribute food as he deemed fit. The best for the guests, of course; no one could say the king and his line weren't generous hosts.

But this was Argia, and they… didn't do that.

Well, at least this course was soup. Jack knew how to eat soup. He reached for his bowl.

Prince Gabriel picked up the small spoon set to the side of his trencher and dipped it into his own bowl of soup.

Apparently he didn't know how to eat soup.

***

Jack said less and less over the course of the feast, just watching Gabriel intently. He ate what Gabriel gave him but never reached for anything himself. Gabriel didn't know if that was the custom in Löwenkrone or if Jack didn't like the food. The idea of asking Jesse to ask Reinhardt grated against his bones, and he found himself snapping whenever one of his entourage tried to talk to him.

At the end of the feast, he was more than glad to send Jack and Reinhardt back to their quarters. It would be a few more hours before his mothers would retire to their private sitting room, so he went to fetch his weapons.

He worked his irritation off by beating Jesse three bouts out of four. By the time they were done, the sun had finally and fully set, and Jesse was swearing at him in three different languages.

Gabriel smirked and helped him to his feet. "Let's go see our mothers."

The ruler's private rooms were some of the most opulent in the castle. Frescoes of the constellations decorated the walls, each contained within painted, arched frame divided from each other by bands of geometric designs. The vaulted ceiling depicted the pagan legend of the sun goddess Giasolora's descent to raise the storm-tossed sailor to the first throne of Argia. The carpeting was plush and richly-dyed, the furniture handsomely carved out of expensive southern woods, the air in the room smoke-free and sweet-smelling from the lightweaver lamps.

Queen Valeria smiled indulgently when they came in still wearing their weapons on their hips. High Princess Sofia stood and embraced first Gabriel then Jesse. "How are my sons doing?"

"Not your son, your highness," Jesse said, already wincing.

As well he should. Queen Valeria's voice snapped like a whip. "Jesse McCree Reyes, your father was my husband. He may have given you your mother's name, but I raised you and I have claimed you as my child just as much as Gabriel. You are not of the blood, but you are of the family."

"Yes, your highness." Jesse didn't sound convinced. He never did, maybe never would. He'd admitted to Gabriel once, when they were drunk, that he didn't feel like Valeria's son. Everyone talked about his father, about how he'd let a pretty face turn him from his queen, and sooner or later, Jesse'd do the same.

Gabriel had told him he was an idiot, but he'd never been very good at comforting people.

Sofia hugged Jesse again until he relented and hugged her back. It was a long hug, longer than Gabriel would have tolerated. But Jesse liked to hold people when he got the chance.

When he finally let go, they all found seats, Gabriel and Jesse both taking a moment to take their sword-belts off.

"Well?" Valeria looked them over. "What do you think of the barbarians?"

"Jack speaks more languages than I thought he would," Gabriel admitted, "but the only ones we have in common, neither of us are both fluent in them." At her look, he elaborated, "Neither of us speak Nision well enough to talk to each other, and my Bahramin is terrible."

"The big guy speaks Nision like he learned it from a book," Jesse said, "but I can talk to 'im."

Valeria nodded. "And?"

"And what?" Gabriel crossed his arms. "He's handsome enough, but I can't talk to him-"

"You lit up like a lightweaver beacon when he smiled at you," Jesse added with a grin.

"Shut up. Mamá, it doesn't matter if I like him or not. It won't bother me to have the sun-barbarian around, and we need the treaty. We need the _timber_."

"He has a point," Sofia said when it looked like the queen would have argued. "You know he has a point, Valeria. We need to expand the fleet if there's to be a war with Omnica."

Gabriel leaned forward, hands on his knees. "There will be a war with Omnica, and we don't want it to reach Argia. They're gobbling up the lands east of Ilevell. By the time they reach us, there'll be no one else left."

"You're assuming they can take Ilevell." Valeria sounded tired, but this was an old argument between the three of them.

" _We_ can take Ilevell."

"No," both his mothers said sharply.

"No, Gabriel," Sofia said, "we cannot win a war with Ilevell. Even with an expanded fleet. Don't even think about it."

"Argia has the best sailors and sea-soldiers on the continent." He didn't bother looking to Jesse for support. He knew no one else thought they could win against Ilevell. No one had won against the empire in centuries, and the last time Argia had gone to war with Ilevell had been a disaster.

"Which we will use to stop the Omnican advance." The queen raised a hand to forestall any objections, not that Gabriel had planned to make any. "I'm pleased you can tolerate the barbarian. I hope you come to like him."

Jesse grinned slyly. "Oh, I think he'll like the 'sun-barbarian' _lots_."

"Shut. Up."

***

An Argian page led Jack and Reinhardt back to their apartments. Jack dimly noted the route, too tired to really concentrate on figuring out the maze of the castle. He'd be able to get back to the great hall in the morning or outside to the courtyard. That was enough.

The apartments were grand, grander even than what he'd commanded in Ilevell as an officer of the Vaatiyan Guard. But even an officer of the Vaatiyan Guard was still a servant; here, he was Prince Gabriel's betrothed.

The carpets in the hexagonal, windowless central room were bright. Glass lamps filled with a faint-smelling oil hung from the ribs arching the ceiling. The walls were carved with intricate geometric patterns interlaced with flowering vines. Arched doors opened on the three inner walls, each leading to a different suite.

Brigitte was already waiting for them, still dressed in her feast finery. Kirsa, one of the servants she'd brought from Löwenkrone, was removing the beads from her hair.

"Well?" Brigitte asked, starting to lean forward before Kirsa tugged gently on the hair in her hands.

Jack sat down and started working the beads out of his own hair. "The Argians think we're barbarians, none of what I learned in Ilevell matters out here, he has a temper, and we can barely talk to each other."

"It is not so bad as all that," Reinhardt said, finding his own seat. "You're a quick learner, Jack. You will be talking to him before the wedding and conversing with him before the next season has passed."

"They serve generous portions," Brigitte added, "and they take good care of their horses. The stables are bigger than your father's and mine combined." She turned her head as much as she was able to look at Reinhardt. "Your other suit of armor and your hammer are in your suite, Papa, and your mail and your swords are in yours, Jack. You need to introduce me to the castle's marshal as soon as you can."

Jack nodded. "I need to find out who the officers of the court are. But you're right, whoever's in charge of our horses is the most important. Is everyone else settling in, Kirsa?"

Kirsa didn't look startled to be directly addressed; she was one of Brigitte's people, after all. "Yes, my prince. We're managing as best we can, with most of us not speaking anything they do. The quarters are fair, though there's no place for the household altars."

Reinhardt grunted. "I saw no place in these apartments, either."

Brigitte pointed to the wall to the right of the doorway to the hall. "We'll have them clear away the furniture and set both of ours up there."

"I need to make myself known to the local spirits." Jack dragged a hand down his face. "I'd ask Gabriel to introduce me, but they don't speak to the spirits here any longer. Not since they converted."

Kirsa muttered something uncomplimentary about people who turned from their own gods.

Jack rolled his hair-beads in one hand like dice. "So. Find out who the marshal is and introduce Brigitte, despite neither of us speaking Argian. Set up the household altars so we can honor our ancestors. Try to be happy with the owl-prince. Anything else?"

"Sleep," Reinhardt said firmly. "Both of you. To bed!"


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Princess Satya arrives in Löwenkrone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe it took me a year and a half to get this written. >_<
> 
> SlackerEmeritus drew [Gabriel and Jesse](https://i.imgur.com/WBAxMb2.png) from chapter one, though, and it looks awesome!

Princess Satya Vaswani Reyes crossed her arms and glared mutinously over the shoulder of her traveling companion. "No. I won't learn this barbaric tongue, and I won't stay there long enough for it to matter."

Vizcondesa Amélie said nothing, merely swaying with the movement of the carriage. The silence between them dragged on, long enough for Satya to become intensely aware of the ringing of the metal-rimmed wheels against the gravel road, the rustle of armor and horses as her knights rode alongside.

She risked a glance at the vizcondesa: Amelie regarded her with a neutral expression. She wasn't using any of the hand signals they had developed early on. The lack of any apparent anger made Satya relax. Her adoptive brothers were the tempestuous ones. She was supposed to be calm in her anger and have real reasons for it.

"I don't want to be here," she said quietly.

Amélie sighed. "You've made that clear." The vizcondesa leaned forward and set her hand on Satya's knee. "I cannot say I understand. I loved Gérard, and he came to me. But your mothers would not send you to someone they thought you would hate."

Satya tensed again, barely aware that she'd relaxed while Amélie talked. "My mothers let him _buy_ me."

"Satya-"

"It's called a bride price in their language! They paid timber and fur for me, like I'm property!"

"I am certain that is a mistranslation," Amélie said, voice clipped. "Too literal a term for the gifts exchanged between families. Gérard found that to be a problem often when he traveled."

Satya nodded reluctantly. It likely was a mistranslation. No one really bought people, not anymore. Ilevell had eradicated the practice in all the lands it conquered, and it once ruled from shore to shore.

She pressed her fingertips together to form a loose cage, then began to shift and interlace them. Blue light sparked to life between her palms, forming a perfect octahedron.

"You should not do that," Amélie said softly. "You know what they do to sorcerers in Löwenkrone."

"It's just the two of us." Satya pulled her hands apart, fingers curling to press against her palm. The octahedron came apart, and she pressed each half into discs. Briefly, lines of white light formed an owl on one and a sun on the other. Then she spread her fingers, let the discs dissolve without ever fully being. "This will be the last time it's just the two of us."

Amélie leaned back and said nothing. Her hand shifted to the sword she'd kept in easy reach the entire journey, but she only brushed the hilt.

***

Lena shifted restlessly from foot to foot. Of the dozen warriors sent to wait for the Argian princess with her, only Erika stood unmoving. Most were dicing. Bardulf and Volker were boasting idly, practicing rhymes and kennings on each other in preparation for the welcoming feast tonight. If the princess showed up today.

She was _supposed_ to show up today. She'd sent couriers ahead to let them know, because she was apparently incredibly polite.

But Lena knew better than anyone how travel could slow down in the woods of Löwenkrone. She'd meant to come back from hunting last night with an antelope and some rabbits, not haul a bull elk up to the Löwenburg gates in a borrowed cart this morning. Good thing she knew the local farmers; there was no way she could have brought the entire elk home by herself.

Winston had taken one look at her when she tromped into the castle in her muddy hunting clothes and sent her off to change.

"But who's going to take my elk to the kitchens?" 

"I will. Go change, Lena. I need you to escort Princess Satya through the town and up to the castle."

"You’ll haul a cart full of dead elk in those clothes?" Lena looked over the fine clothes her brother was wearing then folded her arms. "It won't take me that much longer to deliver the elk and change than it will for me to just change."

"You need to bathe, too," he said wryly. "What did you do, crawl through a swamp after that elk?"

"Maybe!" She grinned up at him - stupid brothers, both being ridiculously taller than her. "Seriously, love, you can't take my elk to the kitchens in your lawspeaker clothes. You'll get them dirty."

"It's in a cart, Lena. I can haul a cart better than you can," he replied, and he really could. So he'd taken her elk to the kitchens to be butchered, and she'd gotten bathed and dressed to stand out here for several hours now.

She blew out a sigh. It wasn't even worth it to duck into the woods and circle around to see what tracks she could find. Not only had she already done that an hour ago, but the only animals this close to Löwenburg would be rabbits, stoats, and foxes. 

The distant sound of hooves on gravel reached her, and she perked up. "Oy! Make yourselves pretty! They're coming!"

By the time the first Argian warriors rode into view, Lena was seated on her horse, Erika and Bardulf flanking her. She knew they looked imposing - Bardulf and Erika both were as tall as Jack, and Torbjörn had made the armor and weapons of every person in this escort. The maneless lion of Löwenkrone snarled on their crisp tabards.

But the Argians were _impressive._

Each warrior wore a steel cuirass with plate sleeves and tassets covering their upper thighs. Their helmets were open, their boots were shining leather, and their pauldrons were bright brass. They rode compact grey horses with breast collars decorated with gleaming blue gems.

Two of the warriors carried the banner of Argia, the crested solar-serpent baring its teeth. It made Lena wish she'd brought a Löwenkrone banner with her. They'd just have to make do with their tabards.

Behind ten of them came a carriage. At least, Lena assumed that was what it was; she'd never seen one before, but Winston had told her about them from his university days in Ilevell, and Jack had mentioned them in his letters.

It looked like an elegantly-shaped wagon in some ways, pulled by two horses. The wooden frame went up higher than any working wagon would, and the corner-posts were carved into fanciful crested serpents with their eyes and crests gilded. A brilliantly blue canopy arched over the top of the carriage, brighter and bluer than anything Lena would have wasted on her horse when she could have made it into a dress. 

Behind it, came a handful of baggage wagons, servants walking with them to guide the horses, and more Argian warriors.

The warriors came to a halt, the carriage rolled to a stop, and a door opened in its side. A woman came out, but not the princess herself. The Argians had sent a portrait as part of the marriage negotiations, and this was not the stunningly beautiful woman who had Winston all nervous.

This woman looked to be half a head taller than Lena on her feet. Her skin was darker than you commonly saw in Löwenkrone, and her eyes were brown. She had her black hair pulled up into a high ponytail that still hung incredibly long down her back. She wore black leather riding boots over silver-grey hose. A close-cut, deep rose doublet ended midway up her thighs, and the laces at the top weren't all the way done up. They didn't look like they were supposed to be all the way done up. Not with the dark lace there, or the two metal rings just between her-

Lena felt herself turning pink, and she forced herself to look the woman in the face. It was a very pretty face, even if her expression was utterly cold.

"You are?" she asked in Löwenkrone, her accent heavy.

"Lena Morrisdottir. Prince Winston sent us to escort Princess Satya to the castle."

She frowned, her cool gaze scanning over the gathered escort. "You carry weapons."

"Yes…?" Lena shifted until she felt the sheathes of her long knives dig into her thighs. "I don't think we'll have any raiders to deal with - it's too early in the year - but I'd rather be armed if I'm wrong."

"Raiders." The woman sounded out the word carefully. "... Land pirates?"

Hoo boy. Well, Jack and Winston both said no one south of them spoke their language. Maybe she should be pleased this one spoke it at all? "Yeah. Raiders. Pirates on land."

The woman nodded, then took a step back and _bowed_. "I am Vizcondesa Amélie Lacroix. I go with Princess Satya." She half-turned towards the carriage, said something in what Lena guessed was Argian, then looked back up at Lena. "This is Satya Vaswani Reyes, princess of Argia."

Princess Satya was _gorgeous_.

Earrings of some bright blue jewel shone against her dark skin, and a white-gold circlet delicately rested on her head. Her shining black hair was pinned up in a multitude of braids. Her traveling dress was finer than any dress Lena had ever owned. It was a bright blue, trimmed with gold and white. The bodice was fitted to her, and the neckline was so low that Lena was glad it was lined with lace and jewels. Even if someone was cruel enough to make it gold lace and blue jewels. The full skirt was slashed with black, and its separate sleeves left her shoulders bare. 

Vizcondesa Amélie said something in Argian. Lena caught her name in there, but the rest of it was pleasant-sounding gibberish to her. The princess replied, then Vizcondesa Amélie turned her full attention back to Lena.

"You ride with us," she said. "The warriors ride around."

"You want me to ride with you two in the carriage? While my people ride escort?" Lena hazarded.

"Yes, princess."

Drat. She'd been hoping they wouldn't recognize her name. 

***

"That is their princess?" Satya demanded. "Well, she looks like what I expected of these barbarians. Do they even know what dresses are?"

Amélie didn't respond, instead turning her attention back to the barbarian. She said something, and Lena responded rapidly. They went back and forth, several times Amélie having to hold up a hand to stop the barbarian and make her repeat herself. 

While Amélie and the barbarian talked, Satya took the opportunity to look over this Princess Lena Morrisdottir. (If Morrisdottir meant what she thought it did, and Lena's brothers were Morrisons, she was _leaving_.)

She was pale-skinned, and her hair was dark brown, like the color of a good wood. But it was cut so short! Even her male knights had longer hair than she did. Too long - only their beards separated them from the women. They all had the same general sort of look with armor over their tunics and trousers. But the weapons they used, and even the styles of armor they wore varied too much to be called a uniform!

Only Lena didn't wear any armor at all. She wore a clean white tunic pinned shut at the neck with a silver-white brooch set with a brilliant blue gem. The hem, sleeves, and neck were edged with a bronze braid. An earpiece covered the shell of her left ear. Two bronze arm-bands wrapped around her upper arms. They didn't fully close, and the open ends were capped with fox heads. Leather bracers held her sleeves shut at the wrist. Her trousers were a deep saffron orange with bands of white cloth winding down from her knees to disappear into her riding boots. A tied leather belt with two long knives sheathed at her hips completed the picture.

Of course barbarians would think wearing weapons to meet a guest was appropriate.

"She will ride in the carriage with us while her knights ride escort," Amélie announced.

"What," Satya bit out.

"Don't take up that habit of your brother's."

Lena dismounted, as did the man to her left. She handed her horse off to him and walked up to the Satya and Amélie, smiling brightly.

She's so short, Satya thought in surprise. She's shorter than me!

Amélie looked down at the barbarian princess then turned her back to help Satya back into the carriage. A bit of tension bled out of her then; Amélie would never turn her back on a threat.

Satya swept her skirt up and settled into her seat again. She turned to see Lena grip the edges of the doorway and haul herself into the carriage. The barbarian paused, her eyes going wide. Amélie nudged her from behind, and she moved out of the way, sitting down on the bench opposite Satya.

Amélie sat down next to her sword, which drew Lena's eye. She said something in her barbarian language, which prompted Amélie to pick up the sword and partly draw it. Lena made admiring noises as she leaned forward to get a better look and half-fell out of her seat when the carriage began to move.

They continued to talk, and Satya let it wash over her. They couldn't be more than an hour from Löwenburg, not with their princess waiting to meet them here. No more than an hour until she arrived in her new home and met this barbarian they meant her to marry.

She smoothed her hands over her skirt, trying to focus on the feel of the material. 

It wouldn't be too bad, surely. Löwenkrone was a border kingdom of Ilevell. Surely she could find other people who knew what actual civilization was like.

Something in Amélie's tone caught her attention. She looked up to see the vizcondesa leaning forward, her voice hard as she spoke to Lena. The response made Amélie use the calm hand-signal, but it was sharp and fast- Did she want Satya to _be_ calm?

That didn't make Satya want to be calm at all.

Amélie sat back. "Princess. The king of Löwenkrone is dead."

"-what?" She didn't know what she expected to hear, but that was not it.

"He died in a hunting accident two weeks ago." Something about the way Amélie said 'hunting accident' made Satya pleat her skirt material between her fingers. Gérard had died in a hunting accident. The vizcondesa could not be happy about remembering that.

Amélie continued, "The queen has chosen to step down from the throne. Her son, the prince you are going to marry, will be crowned king in another four weeks."

"Are you saying there will be six weeks between the king's death and the prince's coronation?" Satya frowned in puzzlement. "That's much too long."

"According to Princess Lena, it was decided the coronation would happen the day after your wedding, as the nobility would already be gathered in Löwenburg."

The implications made Satya clench her fists. "But," she said in a quiet voice, "the wedding is not supposed to be until the week of Sacred Time after Rose Season. Four weeks from now is only halfway through Rose Season."

"They have moved the wedding up."

"I'm supposed to have eight weeks, Amélie. Eight weeks to find a reason to stay in this barbarian land with this barbarian prince."

"It is unfortunate."

"I'm leaving. I won't stay for this. I can't- I'm supposed to have eight weeks. Not four. Eight."

"It is unfortunate," Amélie said again, "but a single death changes everything. The king is dead. His son must be crowned. You will not live there as a foreign princess to be tolerated; you will be queen."

"A foreign queen to be tolerated." Satya crossed her arms and stared hard at the vizcondesa.

Amélie met her gaze without blinking. "But a queen nonetheless."

Satya looked away first. Lena was watching them with interest, but after a few moments of silence, she partially drew a dagger and held it out for Amélie to look at. Soon they were back to talking again, Amelie still having to make the barbarian stop and repeat herself more slowly.

The barbarian's earpiece drew her eye. Satya focused on it, eager for a distraction and a chance to settle herself. It was all lines and curves in a silver-white metal, like Lena's brooch. There was some sort of pattern to it, she was sure. She puzzled over it for a bit, then between one blink and the next, she saw what it was: a rabbit running.

Someone called something in the barbarian language, and Lena twisted around to reach for one of the curtains. She lifted it to peek outside, a smile breaking over her face. It was wide and bright, and looked as natural on her as any of Jesse's smiles.

"Hm?" Satya twisted around to lift her own curtain.

Outside, the woods had given away to pasture, and she could see recently-shorn, brown-and-white sheep contentedly grazing. She blinked. The sheep all had horns! Even the ewes! And they had four of them!

Satya resettled herself so she could stare outside more comfortably. Ahead, she could see the walls of Löwenburg, and the steep roofs rising behind it. That high spire was a temple to the goddesses of Illevell. It flew with bright, streaming banners to honor the goddess of the sky, just like she had read.

Movement drew her eye to construction on the western wall. Part of the wall had been torn down, and a newer, thicker wall was rising in its place. There were farms outside the walls, though they left a killing ground clear in case of assault. Good. She narrowed her eyes and studied the newer walls. They had the same amount of space cleared as the older ones. Very good.

In the distance, she could hear the river Odev and the thump of watermills. Löwenkrone Castle rose above and behind the town. It was ugly to her eyes, obviously built in piecemeal by different kings and repaired without thought to beauty. It was a fortress with no aspirations to more.

This was going to be her home, she thought dismally. This ugly castle in this foreign country with this barbarian king.

She wanted to go home _so badly_.

***

Winston listened as the thanes and gothar discussed which town should have its walls rebuilt next. His part in the Althing was over for the day - he'd recited an hour of the law-code of Löwenkrone at the opening of today's session. By the end of the Althing, he'd have completed another three-year cycle and recited all the laws of the kingdom.

He shifted in his seat. It would be the last time he got to do this. The king could not also be the lawspeaker. He'd have to find a replacement.

He laced his hands together to keep from running them through his hair. There were good candidates, nothing to worry about there. 

The Althing would last well into the afternoon. His shoulders hunched as he leaned forward. Princess Satya and her people should arrive well before then. Of course, as soon as a messenger came to tell him she had arrived, the assembly would dismiss him. No doubt with a lot of congratulations and ribald jokes. 

He eyed the door. There was no way he, as lawspeaker, could justify leaving before a messenger came to tell him the princess had arrived. 

Patience. He needed to have patience. It wasn't as if he found the discussion boring. Rebuilding the walls had been his idea two years ago, after the second time the Terekhans came with cannon. 

Even if he _had_ found it boring, he was perfectly capable of looking like he was listening while he thought about more interesting things. Not like Lena. He chuckled at the idea of Lena sitting through a session of the Althing. She'd rather go hunting wild boar by herself than spend even a morning here.

The tone of the discussion shifted. Winston glanced around sharply, wondering at the change.

Ah! Volker stood at the main doorway, helmet under one arm and sweat at his temples. "My prince, she's here."

"Here? Now?" Winston made himself stand up straight. The habitual hunch he'd learned in university was too easy to slip into.

"Just inside the town gates. Won't be much time for you to reach the castle before her. Got to hurry."

Winston inclined his head and turned to the assembled Althing. "I'm going to meet my bride. I'll see you lot in the morning."

"Cheek!" called an old gothi, a grin on her face.

"Cheek would have been not showing up at all," he said jovially, "and not a one of you would have blamed me."

Gothi Robert barked out a laugh, and Winston could see Thane Johanna laughing silently. 

"Get, you great lug!" called another thane. 

He gestured rudely and ducked through the doorway. Outside, he broke into an easy run, slow enough for Volker to keep up with him. The Hall of the Althing sat in the central square of Löwenburg, at the base of the castle-hill. With the shortcuts he knew, he'd easily make the castle before the Argian princess.

It wasn't a pleasant run, by any means, and Volker was panting by the time they reached the castle courtyard.

"All the way up the hill," he muttered, hands on his knees as he bent over to catch his breath. "Glad your sister's a sprinter. Easier."

Winston chuckled. "It could be worse. It could be Jack here. He can run for days."

Volker shuddered and straightened up. "Lucky me."

"Winston!" His mother Queen Lovisa Sundström came striding out of the gate to the main keep, his sheathed sword slung over one shoulder. "You forgot your sword, my boy."

"Ah, actually, wearing a weapon when you meet a guest is considered a threat in the southern lands… I imagine that holds true in Argia," he said, rubbing the back of his head.

His mother gave him a disbelieving look. "Well, you know their customs better than I do. And it's not as if _you_ need a sword to kill a man."

"I don't want to kill anyone, Mutti."

"No one wants to kill people," she informed him. "But sometimes it's necessary, and that's why we keep our weapons close."

"Yes, but I don't think it's going to be necessary while I formally introduce myself to Princess Satya. Please let Volker take my sword to the armory." He smiled, hoping his mother would pay more attention to that than his shorn beard. Mutti had loved King Morris very much - they all had. The stress of readying their home for his bride-to-be was only worsening her grief.

"Very well." She unslung his sword and handed it to Volker. "Let's wait for this Argian princess then."

***

Satya dug her nails into her palms to keep from weaving something, anything. They had just passed through the castle gates, and once they exited this tunnel, she would have to meet her husband-to-be. She would have to live in this backwater, at least until her mothers gave her permission to come home.

Or she snapped and ran away.

Why had Amélie invited the Löwenkroner princess into their carriage? Satya couldn't do magic with any of them around! Not with- whatever they did to sorcerers. Everyone kept saying she should know, and she didn't want to admit she didn't. She was the brilliant one of Queen Valeria's children, the scholar and magician. She was supposed to know everything.

The carriage rolled to a stop. Lena leapt to her feet, standing half-hunched in the carriage to avoid disturbing the canopy. She waited for Amélie and Satya to half-rise before opening the door and jumping down. She stood and held it open, offering her arm to Amélie as the vizcondesa climbed down.

Satya knew she was supposed to wait until Amélie indicated it was safe, but she _needed_ to see her husband-to-be. She needed something definite to force away her fears.

So she let Lena help her out of the carriage while Amélie was making her introductions.

The prince of Löwenkrone was gigantic. For a long moment, that was her only impression of him - his shoulders were so broad, and he was so _tall_. Amélie barely came up to his collar-bones!

She was shorter than Amélie.

He'd noticed her. So had the older woman with him. Satya swallowed and forced herself to finish looking over the barbarian prince. His hair was dark, long, and loose, but his beard was cut close to his face. He was as pale-skinned as his sister, though none of the Löwenkroner were the alabaster her books had led her to expect.

He was dressed in a white high-collared tunic. Hems, wrists, and collar were all edged with yellow silk braid. Bands of embroidered runes ran alongside the trim, while an embroidered pattern of the moon and stars ran across his chest. His trousers were a rich brown - the same brown as the sheep she had seen. Bright yellow stitching showed at the seams, obviously intended to be noticed. Patterned white-and-black wraps ran down his lower legs, and his shoes were shining leather held closed by toggles.

He wore three twisted gold armbands that didn't close all the way, two rings mounted with gems, a signet ring, and a gold earpiece on the shell of his left ear, shaped like the crescent moon with a wolf curled along it.

The older woman with them looked enough like Lena to be their mother. Well, possibly just Lena's mother. She wore a dress - an actual dress! It was extremely plain compared to the fashions of Argia, but Satya supposed it suited Löwenkrone. It was actually two dresses, now that she looked at it. A sleeved under-dress in a rich red with a sleeveless white brocade over-dress. It was pinned at the shoulders with a pair of golden brooches in the shape of the maneless lion of Löwenkrone.

The brooches weren't her only jewelry, and her jewelry was _not_ plain. Bracelets of gold and silver, most studded with stones, ran up her arms. Strings of beads made from precious and semi-precious stones rested atop her chest - Satya could pick out pearls and all manner of tourmalines, at a glance. A fall of garnets hung from each ear, with the shell of her right enclosed in a gold earpiece shaped like a fruiting vine.

"Satya Princess." The Löwenkroner prince stepped forward and bowed. "I am Winston Prince. You are welcome in my home."

She blinked. He spoke Nision! No one had told her he spoke Nision! With a very different accent than they used in Argia, but that was to be expected. Jesse had said their Nision didn't sound like the actual Nision of the Nisos Isles.

"Greetings," she said after a too long moment, dropping a curtsy. "I am pleased to-" 

She fumbled for words. She had not planned what to say to him, she had not thought they would be able to speak to each other at all!

"I am pleased to be in your home," she said at last. "It is beautiful country."

That was not a lie; she knew she would like Löwenkrone if this was merely a state visit. The forests were dark and mysterious, the architecture and art strange.

He smiled. "It is bettered by you being here."

She felt her cheeks heat, and she was so glad Lena piped up to say something in that barbarian language. It drew everyone else's attention away from her briefly, long enough for her to get herself under control.

No one had told her he could speak so nicely.

***

"What did you say to her?" Lena asked later, after Winston had escorted Princess Satya to her quarters and made sure she didn't need anything immediately. She had asked only for some time to herself to recover from her travel, so Winston had left her alone with her people.

Of course Lena had found him almost immediately when he decided to check on the progress of the wall-rebuilding personally.

"I welcomed her to Löwenkrone, that's all," he said. 

"You couldn't have," Lena insisted. "No one gets flustered over being welcomed someplace!"

"Well, she said it's beautiful country here, so I, ah, said it was made more beautiful by her being here," he mumbled.

His sister laughed. "Where did you even _get_ that from? You've never been that quick with a good line before."

"I read it in a book."

"Oh, Winston!" Lena laughed so hard she had to stop walking. He just rolled his eyes and kept going; she was more than fast enough to catch up.

When she did, he asked, "Do you have any letters you want to send Jack or anyone who went with him? I'm going to send a message-carrier to Argia in three days. That should be long enough for Princess Satya to write any letters she wants to send."

"Yeah," she said, "I've got a letter for Jack. I always have a letter for Jack."

"I know he appreciates it," Winston said carefully. Apart from the few months Jack spent in Löwenkrone while he readied himself to live in Argia, he hadn't been back in his homeland for well over a decade. Lena had been _ten_ the last time she saw her eldest brother.

Winston had attended university in Ilevell, so he'd seen Jack as recently as four years ago.

"Of course he does," she said, as if he was being impossibly silly. "He always writes back, doesn't he?"

"Yes, he does." Ahead, a crane hoisted a stone block and carefully swung it into place on the partially rebuilt walls. Workers hurried forward to lever it into place, and he could hear the happy heckling of the girl keeping the oxen plodding in their circle. "Any chance you'll actually take the forester tests this year?"

"Not even a little bit!" Lena said cheerfully. "Have fun inspecting the walls, Winston, I've got places to be!"

***

The Löwenkroner gave Satya her own suite of rooms with a smaller, attached suite for Amélie. As soon as she could, Satya retreated to the bed, pulling the drapes closed and leaving herself in darkness. It only dulled the noise of Amélie directing the servants about where to put their trunks and furniture, where to unpack her dresses, so many picky little details Satya would probably change tomorrow.

Just. Not right now. There were far too many people, and it had been a long day full of surprises. She was just going to make a few lights right now.

Twisting her fingers together, Satya pulled light out of the air and wove it into the shape of a diamond. She held the magic, keeping it as light rather than bringing it fully into being. She let herself focus on it, twisting and pulling it into new shapes until it was quiet outside her haven.

She let it vanish, never fully made manifest, and slipped out of the bed. 

Amélie sat in an ornately carved chair. She flashed the hand-signal to show she wasn't feeling any particular emotion, and Satya relaxed before realizing she'd been tense.

"There is a welcoming feast," the vizcondesa said. "I unpacked your silverware."

"That's not the way they do things in Löwenkrone," Satya objected. She'd seen how they ate, back when they visited an acquaintance of Amélie's in Metsakond, an independent duchy bordering Löwenkrone. It was messy, just knives and trenchers to hold the food off the table.

"You are a princess of Argia. You do not need to fit in, not tonight," Amélie said gently.

Satya took a deep breath, then another. "As you say." Another breath. "Will you help me pick out a dress? Something easy to clean? I don't know what a feast will actually entail."

***

The feast was noisy and full of strangers. Satya found herself flinching when people yelled across the table at each other, and everyone was so boisterous and loud, it seemed like everyone had to yell just to be heard. Her shoulders hunched, and she tried to focus on the food in front of her- 

The clatter of someone dropping a pitcher startled a distressed "ah!" out of her.

"Satya Princess?" Winston reached out as if to touch her forearm then drew back. "Ah- If the noise- If you're not enjoying yourself- We could leave."

She blinked at him, trying to find the angles in that. In Argia, no one would have minded if she left during a function. No one who mattered anyway. But surely it was different here. The foreign princess couldn't just **leave** during her own feast-

He had said 'we'.

"I'd like that," she said finally. "It's… loud."

"Very," he said and smiled. Then he stood up, and the very act of standing up drew every eye to him. He spoke in the Löwenkroner tongue, some of the words repeating, and the people cheered as he offered her his hand. She took it, and they left as the cheering grew louder.

She wondered what he said as he led her out of the feast hall, but it wasn't as important as being Away.

He released her hand when they were out of the hall, not dropping it but not forcing her to hold onto him either. Unsure of what to do, she left her hand in his. It felt… nice.

"I, uh, I'll be sending a messenger to Argia in the next week," Winston said. "Isla, probably, she's reliable, and she enjoys traveling. You haven't met her yet, she's one of Lena's friends. Um. If you have any letters you want to send home, just tell me so I can make sure she gets them."

Satya nodded. "Very well. I will have my letters ready by tomorrow evening."

"Tomorrow? You don't need to-"

"I want to, Winston Prince," she said calmly. Writing letters to each of her brothers and to her mothers would let her get her mind in order and actually think about the situation. She looked forward to it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter three should *hopefully* not take anywhere near as long to write. It won't be quick, though, as I want to sit down and rethink my plot in light of lore developments and new characters.
> 
> I have been tweaking chapter one some, mostly tightening words or adjusting descriptions in light of world-building I've done. So, yes, if you remember it being different, it probably was. XD I'll likely keep doing that for any posted chapters; if anything substantial changes, I'll let you folk know in the next chapter's notes.

**Author's Note:**

> This is literally the first time in over a decade that I've posted a work-in-progress. Please be gentle about asking for updates and respect that it's going to be at least a couple of weeks between chapters.
> 
> You can find me on tumblr at http://beckyh2112.tumblr.com/


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